


Temptation Accomplished - The first day of the rest of their lives.

by Crowley_Kitten



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: A Nightingale Sings in Berkeley Square (Good Omens), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley First Kiss (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley gets a good pounding (Good Omens), Crowley_Kitten own brand Soft Smut TM, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hotel Sex, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Jackson Pollocking, Love Confessions, M/M, Missing Scene, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Post-Trial (Good Omens), Pre-Dining at the Ritz (Good Omens), Rimming, Shameless Smut, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens), moderate homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:07:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27544318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_Kitten/pseuds/Crowley_Kitten
Summary: The Trials have gone down. back in their own corporations, Aziraphale and Crowley head to the Ritz for a spot of lunch. after a moment of verbal abuse on the street, Aziraphale has an idea. in one brave move, he decides to ask for the future he's always wanted.or.Why Aziraphale and Crowley look so blissfully glowing and ruffle haired at the Ritz.This piece was written for the Scribbling Vaguely downwards/Grow Better holiday exchange.I was very lucky to receive as my swap partner, a good friend, who I share a lot of interests with. so I sincerely hope she enjoys this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it (and WOW. I enjoyed writing it a lot)My perfect prompts from the wonderful GayDemonicDisaster wereCrowley/Aziraphale* PWP, smut, fluffAre you comfortable receiving NSFW work?  * YesPlease give us three prompts to give your gift creator, if you can. Be as specific as possible.First time,established relationship,misunderstanding/comedy of errors
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 115
Collections: Grow Better / Scribbling Vaguely Downwards - Holiday Swap '20





	Temptation Accomplished - The first day of the rest of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GayDemonicDisaster (scrapheapchallenge)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapheapchallenge/gifts).



The angel and the demon felt their ethereal forms shunted out of their corporations as their fingertips touched.    
the strange soul-deep tremble as their molecules and atoms rearranged themselves, flowing over that point of contact like it was the centre of a new explosion of celestial creation.    
  
Crowley leaned back, comfortable again in his long, light limbs. Aziraphale was relieved at his own grounding weight, adjusting the slump in the spine that was not how he carried himself. The demon's serpentine eyes wouldn’t leave his. Not for a moment. The events of the past few days on them both seemed to weigh them down and set them free in the same breath. Aziraphale flexed a little in his seat. Back in his own body, Crowley realised how ill groomed the angel's wings were. That nagging itch, that he hadn’t given thought to under the circumstances was gone. He watched Aziraphale wriggle against the back of the bench, like a bear scratching against a tree. 

  
“I can groom them for you. Later. If you like?” The angel blushed.    
  
“Oh! Oh, really, that won’t be necessary. I’m just a little itchy.”    
  
“ANGEL. I was in your body mere moments ago. At first I thought the discomfort was from the wrong body, but now I’m back in my own, it’scrystal clear. You're going into a moult. And you’ve not looked after them well, besides the point. You angels. Always neglecting your own comfort. “ 

"Hmmmm. Now you mention it, yes, your wings ARE a lot more comfortable than mine....”    
  
“YES, Angel! I groom them. I OIL them. When did you last preen properly?”    
  
“Well... I TRY, but there’s not really anyone I can trust to work the parts I can’t reach. So... for the most part.... I ….. I leave them be. “He looked ashamed at his admission.    
  
“You can’t trust ME?!” The demon asked. His golden eyes burning with hurt.   
  
"It’s very INTIMATE Crowley!”    
  
“Angel. … Angel come on. ...can’t be more intimate than five minutes ago.” Aziraphale was flustered. Crowley liked it when he had him flustered. It was endearing. “I think you’d like it.” His voice lower, oozing like honey. Aziraphale blushed prettily. “AHA! You DO like it!” He lightly skimmed long fingers down between his companion's shoulder blades, smiling as his eyes closed with a shiver, and he swallowed hard. “I think you like it VERY much....”    
  
"ALRIGHT! YES! Yes, I DO like having my wings touched. It's just..... “ Crowley raised his eyebrow when the penny dropped, and let him leave it unsaid. Nodded gently. The silence was a little uncomfortable, as both found themselves imagining Crowley's elegant hands working through the white, fluffy plumage. Aziraphale shifted a little in his seat.    
  
“Lunch then?” Crowley stood. Aziraphale was grateful for the change in subject, and when Crowley offered his hand to help him up, he took it. It felt good to thread his fingers between the demon’s. Palm to palm. The warmth of his skin. _‘and palm to palm is holy Palmers kiss ‘_ his brain supplied, unhelpfully, taking his memories back to the Globe. To that LUDICROUS Goatee. How he had wanted to silence the demon’s teasing by grabbing him by the auburn tuft and pulling him close enough to cover his tormenting lips with his own. Of course, he had never been brave. Not really. So, the opportunity had passed, untaken. Time to BE brave. He had faced Armageddon. He had stood hand in hand with the Antichrist himself to face down Satan. He had stood trial in Hell. He had...he smirked; he had asked the Archangel Michael to miracle him a towel. He had THREATENED Beelzebub to their pustulent face and seen fear in those cold blue eyes. He COULD be brave, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to be brave now. Brave where it really mattered.   
  
“Crowley!” Aziraphale stopped walking just before they reached the Ritz. Turned the demon to face him.   
  
“Everything alright, Angel?”    
  
“Yes....yes, I rather think it is.....only.... I’m done with being cowardly. We get to rebuild our lives now. And I’m not going to be too scared to make it the life I.... I’ve wanted for ….. so long now. So, No. Don't interrupt me, I need to say this and... and.... it’s.....” He reached up to tug those glasses away. To look into those baffled, sunset gold eyes. The most beautiful eyes. No time to lose nerve now. “If we are getting to make a new life....on our own terms... and ….our own side......” Aziraphale closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, he was Still. Strong. Decisive. “Crowley...My DEAR Crowley. Will you...... will you build that life with me?” Crowley's mouth hung open in surprise. His eyes wide, the sclera blown out and fully serpentine. He even blinked a few times in uncharacteristically rapid succession. Swallowing around words that wouldn’t quite form.    


“ _What?!_ …. Angel?! Aziraphale...?” His face pleading for the answer to a question he couldn’t put into words.    
  
“I LOVE YOU, Crowley!” He managed to burst out, reaching up to cup the sharp jut of his knifelike jaw in his soft palm. Crowley leaned into the touch. He stepped in closer, breathing faster now. His eyes lowered demurely. “I love you. I’ve loved you for..... longer than even I knew.”   
  
“You......?” before Crowley could say anything that might make him lose his nerve, Aziraphale closed the gap between their lips, feeling the demon tense, then soften against him, a soft sigh as he seemed to melt. Hands coiling around his waist and the back of his head, tightening in his hair. Aziraphale let his own hands wander. He was... he was KISSING Crowley. And Crowley was kissing him back. Crowley's lips parted under his own, and he whimpered as he felt their tongues sliding together. Crowley slid his hand down, grasping eagerly at his buttocks and tugging him closer, moaning as the length of their bodies pressed together. Aziraphale tugged hungrily at the red spikes, making Crowley Groan into his mouth, and oh it was so good, so perfect. Crowley turned, pushing him against the wall, he shuddered with need when he felt the growing hardness against his hip. His heart racing faster. He felt his own cock twitch greedily in response as the kiss deepened, became more urgent. Crowley's hands tightening on him, making his breath hitch.    
  
Crowley felt a half-empty coffee cup thump into his shoulders, the contents not daring to spill on him.    
  
“GET A ROOM, FAGS!” shouted a short man with a shaved head and bad tattoos. Crowley, without missing a beat, snapped his fingers sharply, smiling against Aziraphale as he heard the thud of a body hitting the ground hard, having slipped on dog shit. Chuckling, Aziraphale broke off the kiss, glancing over the demon's shoulder as he tried to get up, slipped again, smearing the sticky mess up his side. And then, unable to resist, the angel snapped his fingers, and moments later a white smear of pigeon droppings slid down the man's face.    
laughing softly, he pressed his lips eagerly back to Crowley's, before resting their foreheads together, momentarily, to catch his breath. The demon's eyes were honeygold. Soft with affection and amusement. The crinkling of those perfectly expressive crow's feet.    
  
“Now....my dear...... while his delivery left a lot to be desired, the man DOES make a very good point.”    
  
“Hnnngk?”    
  
“Maybe we should do as he suggested.” He tugged lightly at the tartan collar of the jacket, sliding cheek against cheek. Bringing those pink, expressive lips close to Crowley's ear. “Maybe we SHOULD ‘get a room’” Crowley swallowed hard. “Would you like that? I think _I_ would like that very much.” His stormy eyes were dark with desire, triggering a relay of short circuits through Crowley's serpentine mind.    
  
“Wait? WAIT?! Are you um.... asking me to......” Aziraphale pulled him closer, tugging those narrow hips back to his, where the demon could feel the heat and the bulge of his trousers against him. “to.....um......? You.... want me to.....? You want ME?”    
  
"Don’t see how I could make that any more obvious, my beloved snake.” He looked down coyly at where their bodies pressed close. “If..... if that’s something you want too.... I don’t want it if you don’t want it.”    
  
“Oh Aziraphale....I want it. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.” Aziraphale beamed, like the sun splitting a cloud after a storm.    
  
“Well, this IS a hotel, after all. And …. I think the reservation is, now, not for another few hours. I’m sure there will be a suite for us..... if.... if we’re going to be doing this. I would eat first, but I can’t wait any longer, now I know you feel the same.” Crowley whimpered softly as he claimed those lips again, before breaking off and willing his disobedient cock into submission.    
  
The following ten to twenty minutes passed in a blur. They arrived at reception to find a luxury suite was available and ready, the previous occupants having had to leave early for their flight. All they need do was wait for hospitality to take up the finishing touches. Aziraphale discretely asked that there be some “toiletries of a personal nature” as he called them, to be left in a bedside drawer, and to make it romantic. Before long, housekeeping called back down to reception, and they were being led to their suite.    
  
Crowley's heart thundered in his ears. He couldn’t believe it. He had always thought that his angel HIS ANGEL had no interest in him like that. Or in anyone, really. He had dreamed of this, longed for this, but never ever dared HOPE for it. Aziraphale. HIS Aziraphale, was going to bed him. They were going to.... Oh, he hoped he didn’t disappoint him. He was, after all, more than a little out of practice. Had the angel...? I mean he’d always assumed not, but.... but he HAD made the first move. Never in his wildest dreams, and there had been plenty of those, had he imagined that.    
  
"Gentlemen, this is your suite. Here are your keys. There is a list by the phone of which numbers go direct to reception, housekeeping, butler service, room service and concierge. If there is anything we can do to make your stay more enjoyable, don’t hesitate to ask. I hope you enjoy your stay.” They opened the suite door, allowing them to enter, then left discretely.    
  
Aziraphale’s eyes widened, taking in the gilded splendour of the room. Sparkling in the light of the candles that had been set up ahead of their arrival. Crowley lifted the champagne from the ice cooler, raised an eyebrow approvingly as he eyed the label, and with an ease born of centuries practice, twisted the cork out of the bottle, so it gave a soft pop and hiss. He poured two glasses, handing one with shaking hands to his best and dearest friend, pulling him close. He removed his sunglasses and set them down. Wanting only to gaze deep into those beautiful eyes. Eyes like the sky. Eyes like the sea. He trailed his gaze over the enticing pink lips, kissed plump already. The tilt of that darling nose. The soft pale skin. Hair like fluffy clouds. He felt like he was flying. In a way, he was.    
  
“You..... you REALLY want this?” He asked, his voice small and wavering. He felt like this couldn’t be real. He didn’t deserve to get what he really wanted. Damned thing that he was.    
  
“More than ANYTHING, my dear, sweet, perfect Crowley. As long as you want it too.” Again, that soft hand cupped his cheek, thumb stroking over his angular cheekbones. Forehead pressed back to his. “I would be lying if I were to say I’m not incredibly nervous. But it’s from excitement, not uncertainty. I want you with every beat of my heart, since the world began. You are my one, true constant. You've always been there for me. You are my WORLD, Crowley.”    
  
“ ’zirphale....” the demon moaned, pulling him closer, burying his face in the soft curve of the angel's neck, hoping he hadn’t noticed the gloss of tears welling in his eyes. His angel. HIS ANGEL. Soft and giving and pliant in his arms.    
  
“What should we toast, darling one?”    
  
“To.....to...our side? To us?”    
  
“Yes, love, to us.” Aziraphale sipped at his glass, and Crowley followed his example. “I wonder what the bedroom is like.” Aziraphale downed his glass. Crowley did the same, then refilled both, and downed it again. Aziraphale set his glass aside. His face more serious now, lingering over Crowley's dark brows, his high cheekbones. His aquiline nose and thin, soft-looking (and now he knew they WERE soft) lips. “Will you come to bed with me, my dear one? Will you....make love to me?”    
  
Crowley swallowed hard again. His angular Adam’s apple rising and falling. Those ocean fierce eyes were burning everywhere they lingered. He let himself be led to the bedroom. White rose petals scattered on the fine gold-embroidered bed linen. The bed was huge. Aziraphale led him to it, and guided him to sit. He tugged open the drawer beside him and smiled to himself. Removed his shoes and tucked them under the bed. Crowley kicked his boots off carelessly. Aziraphale fondly looked down at the long, angular feet. Maybe his least human part, even after his beautiful, burnished, slit pupiled eyes. The faint shimmer of iridescent barely there scales around the ankle and arch. The smattering down the outer edge of his toes, and there, still looking quite raw, the scars from the burns that the church aisle had caused. Aziraphale had reverentially bathed and dressed those feet, carefully cutting away dead flesh with a heated kitchen knife to stop the necrosis spreading. He had realised then the depth of how he loved the demon. That was when he had stopped lying to himself about the nature of their arrangement.    
  
“I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do, my dear boy...”    
  
“Nono.....I want this....” Crowley's voice was small. Aziraphale shuffled forwards, carefully cupping his love's face in his palm, sliding the other up the thigh of those sinfully tight trousers. He leaned forwards eagerly and their lips met again. There was a desperate, hungry noise, and neither of them knew which mouth had uttered it, as their breath was a shared thing now. The moan vibrated in both of their mouths as they kissed, falling sideways to the luxurious bed. Crowley, touch starved, pressed into the angel's palm, thrilling at those neat, blunt nails trailing over and over his scalp, making it sing with sensation. A low rumble began in his chest. Aziraphale’s eyes widened.    
  
“Are you....? Are you.....purring, Crowley?” He shook his head vigorously, but the rumbling continued, to Aziraphale’s delight. He didn’t know the demon purred, but it seemed fitting somehow. Their lips met again and again. Their tongues dancing. their hands greedily exploring familiar forms in a way that made them new again. breath quickened as fingers reached for buttons. This was happening. This was going to happen, and it was going to happen on THIS DAY. This Sunday. This day when the world was new. 

  
Crowley whimpered as Aziraphale pushed the jacket back off his shoulders, tugging fiercely at his waistcoat and shirt buttons until that thin, whippet like, ridged chest was his to explore. His eyes met the angels as he watched him take in the lithe form before him. Aziraphale tugged the shirt free of his arms, and ran his fingers hungrily over the narrow chest before him. He bent to capture one small nipple between his teeth, and Crowley near howled with need. The dark, rose pink buds tightening under that soft, wet, searching tongue. Oh, dear GOD! Dear HER! The Angels devouring lips and tongue were relentless. Crowley's breathing was coming harsh and ragged under the rasping caress of that pink and perfect tongue. Crowley helped Aziraphale remove his heavy layers, carefully folding each garment into a stack before placing it on the chair neatly. Crowley gasped when Aziraphale removed his vest, revealing a thick torso, lightly dusted with white gold, soft, curling hair, sparkling in the candlelight, his chest was broad. His shoulders wide. His belly a soft, rounded curve over heavy muscle. He was the most beautiful being the demon had ever seen.    
  
“Aaaaangel” He sighed. “you’re SO....beautiful” Aziraphale reached down to palm at Crowley's aching hardness through those obscene trousers, making him close those glorious amber eyes, his head flung back on the bed, exposing that long, pale throat. Aziraphale growled softly as he pushed the demon back further, nipping playfully at those gorgeous, angular collarbones, sucking deep bruises into the soft skin with his neat, white teeth. This was everything the demon had hoped for and more. “You’re....you’re shaking me apart, love” The Angel reached for the snakeskin belt, unfastening the buckle. Crowley's hand rested on his. “Not wearing pants.” he sighed. “Thought you should know” the Angel gulped and continued, realising he must have removed the underwear after they swapped back. I mean, it really wasn’t his style. Aziraphale had put it there to avoid any awkward moments during the trick. Stripping away the skin-tight jeans he let Crowley's imposing cock bob free. It was long, curved beautifully, and Aziraphale ached to feel it inside himself. His eyes widened, taking in the long dreamed of naked form. And the dreams didn’t come close. The glimpse that the modest underwear he had kept on while occupying that body gave him hadn’t prepared him. he had thought those trousers left nothing to the imagination, but still his imagination hadn’t come even close.    
  
“Oh, Crowley. That is.... that’s magnificent. May I touch it?” Crowley whimpered gutturally, nodding for his angel to continue. The soft, well-manicured hand folded lightly around his shaft, moving slowly and with a confidence that surprised him. Crowley caressed those strong shoulders, leaning in to kiss and nip at the angel's throat. How good he smelled there! His skin scented like frankincense, honey, tonka, and the warm vanilla of old books. He smelt like sunlight. The subtle, clean lavender and rosemary of his cologne. He smelt like ….. he smelt like his angel. His perfect, beautiful angel. Even Hells stink didn’t dare linger on the comforting incense of his skin. His angel, stroking his length expertly. Intuitively knowing just how he liked to be touched. The scent of angelic lust heavy in the air, he could taste it. Curled his agile tongue to the roof of his mouth to savour that heavy, intoxicating scent. 

Aziraphale trailed his lips down over those fine, angular collarbones, licking and biting, trailing those perfect, pearly teeth over his skin, raising every hair on his body into goosebumps. With a low moan, the angel closed his mouth over Crowley's achingly sensitive nipple, Oh God, Oh Satan oh FUCK! Those eyes locked on to his as the lips worked agonisingly slowly down his lean ribs, and realisation dawned blisteringly through his overwhelmed mind. He was.... oh SHIT!... oh yes. lips trailing down the fine skin below his purely decorative navel. “Is this okay, my love?” He asked softly, gazing up with his hands on the narrow hips, his mouth hovering meaningfully close to the searing heat of his cock. Crowley nodded. Aziraphale closed his eyes and nuzzled his erection, smoothly stroking the sensitive skin against his cheek, before trailing his nose up the underside of the straining shaft. Then, oh the dark force of those eyes as those perfect, pink lips parted around his head, sucking and lapping gently. An incoherent sound tore from the demon's throat. Aziraphale swirled the tip of his tongue around the soft, exposed slick skin there, dipping into the opening, tasting his salt, spice and sweet precome, making him gasp and tremble. Aziraphale moaned around him, his all too familiar moan of enjoyment that had caused many an adjustment of his seat in a chair over the centuries. Savouring the earth and spice musk of him. Crowley's long fingers tangled harshly in the fluffy halo of white gold curls. trying to resist the urge to fuck up into his mouth. The Angel took him deep, so the back of his throat gripped him, as he continued firmly rolling his wrist, instinctively hitting a stroke that was just right. With his other hand, lightly massaging his velvet soft balls, and then, oh then, so delicious, one knuckleinsistently massaging into his perineum, bringing all sensation to a tight point of frantic longing.    
  
“ANGEL...Angel!.....M’close!.....m’close.....gonna....if you don’t ease off I’m …..” He began to fight back fierce jolts electrifying his spine, as the sensation pooled violently in his hips. “Gonna come, Angel...” Aziraphale hummed approvingly, as his remarkably skilled tongue tickled at his hypersensitive frenulum, as those pink, kiss plumped lips lightly rolled his foreskin back and forth, and FUCK! It was happening. The demon's mind whited out, his heart seemed to stop, his back arched from the bed, and his cock throbbed obscenely as he pulsed his completion down that devouring, hungry throat.    
  
Aziraphale sat back on his heels, head flung back, eyelids heavy with languid satisfaction. That pink tongue laviciously trailed his lips, chasing the demons spend, determined not to waste a drop. He let himself crumple to the welcoming mattress with a low moan.    
  
“Darling...” He whispered.    
  
“m’sorry angel. I tried to hold back, but..... you’re so FUCKING good at that.”    
  
“Do you have any idea, my beloved, how long I have wanted to do that for you?” The angel smiled happily at Crowley's startled expression.    
  
“F’kin love you, ‘zirphale” The demon slurred, weak with pleasure, before claiming that obscenely talented mouth with his own. The taste of his own come in that perfect, angelic mouth sent jolts of arousal straight back to his recently sated cock. The demon had never felt so blasphemous in the long years of his existence. Eagerly coiling his limbs around the plush, warm angel. “How....how do you want to....y’know....?” The angel kissed him back, hands sweeping up those slim flanks, just the bearable side of ticklish.    
  
“Crowley....” He moaned in a low, feral, hungry tone. “I want you to fuck me.” Crowley startled at the coarse reply, sounding so shocking in that prim voice. “I want that delicious cock inside me.... please......” He fumbled with the drawer again, tugging out a small bottle of clear liquid, and tossing it onto the bed. Crowley rolled him over, tugging his pale trousers down to his knees, his pale blue pants too, tugging both off over his feet. His fine knit socks, and their ludicrous garters. the Angel was fully naked now, his plump buttocks there for him to worship. They were as enticing as he’d always imagined, over long years of admiring glances hidden behind smoked glass. How he had savoured the cling of fabric when he bent or turned just so. How long he had wanted to take that full, soft flesh in his hands and squeeze and caress. The long fingers massaged the rounded muscle of them, and then he nosed between his cheeks, pressing slow, soft kisses to the pucker of skin there. Aziraphale gasped and rutted into the mattress. And, oh Crowley longed to see it. To touch it. See if it was as beautiful and thick and strong as the rest of him. But for now, he had this delectable, plush arse. He slowly dragged his long tongue from behind the angel's balls, smoothing up that deep crease to sweep wide, wet strokes over his opening, with a needy sound, he pointed his tongue and pressed forwards, sighing longingly as Aziraphale gasped in surprise and delight. He began eagerly probing with his long, agile tongue, letting it become longer and bifurcated, flickering it as he would scent in snake form, and the angel practically sang under his touch. The sounds he made so beautiful. A finger joined his tongue, moist with his spittle. The look of slack jawed wanton need as the angel looked back over his shoulder split his demonic black heart open. As the next finger joined it, he curled them together, massaging around the bundle of nerves just inside him. The angel's pupils were blown so wide they plunged the blue grey irises into darkness. “please......please, yes, my love....please.....take me darling....” Crowley rolled him back, tugging several overstuffed cushions beneath those gorgeous hips before kissing him deeper and hungrier than he ever felt possible. His eyes devoured the sight of that thick, sturdy cock jutting proudly from its nest of silken white curls. This body he had occupied mere hours earlier, but it could never be the same as this, watching the shadow of desire flit over those sacred features as he wrung pleasure from every nerve of his angel. “Fuck me darling.....fuck me.... please.....”    
  
The demon applied a liberal amount of lube to his fingers before checking to see if his angel was relaxed enough. He was still deliciously tight, so he eased in another finger, working again around the angel's prostate. Aziraphale was panting low and longing as those long fingers curved and twisted inside him. Crowley could feel the tight muscle becoming more willing. Aziraphale gripped his small, round buttocks, tugging him flush against himself. His eyes pleading. The angel groaned when he felt those long fingers grip him, the other hand working him open in agonisingly slow increments. And then, eyes locked each to the other, Crowley slicked his long, hard cock and eased it gradually into the angel's ferocious heat. Aziraphale whimpered at the pressure of that swollen, wet head breaching him. At the delicious stretch and ache as he was filled. As he reached his hilt, the demon drooped in the angelic embrace, they both stilled in reverence of the moment they were sharing together. Huge golden eyes grown just large enough to look out of place, the pupils blown almost round with lust, the sclera fully coloured now. The unbelieving smile that twisted the thin lips, revealing the hint of those sharp teeth, the fangs slightly lengthened. A face barely human. A face that never WAS human. It was more than that. A face that was Crowley. Aziraphale gazing up into that angular, sharp, and unbelievably beloved face. His features slack in wonder. Crowley thought he looked like paintings of angels and saints in divine ecstasy. He supposed he was, maybe. Therewere tears sparkling at the corner of those blue eyes, and Crowley found a low chuckle exploding into almost a sob. They were here. They had survived. They were together. And the world was theirs.    
  
Caressing each other's faces, reaching in for another kiss, they began to move together. Crowley took Aziraphale’s gorgeous, girthy cock in hand and matched the rhythm to the undulating roll of his own narrow, sharp hips. Delighting in his low moans, at the way his breath caught with each breath, each gasp and whimper and moan and cry. The way the angel's hips met his at each thrust. How tight and hot and giving he felt. Crowley leaned in closer to bite and lick and possess. HIS Angel. HIS love. His Only. HIS Aziraphale. His world. Those white little teeth worrying at his lower lip as the wave built inside them both. Aziraphale’s legs locked around his waist, riding every thrust, his hands reached back tangling in the pillows, his head flung back, mouth agape as his gasps and moans came faster, as the pace of their bodies quickened, with their hearts and lungs. rising in pitch towards a divine crescendo. He was close, he was so close. Grabbing fiercely at Crowley's hips and tugging them greedily deeper with each thrust. As the waves began to hit, something dark, and fierce and primal and purely human passed across that pure and beautiful face before the overwhelming sensation forced his eyes closed.    
  
“CROWLEY!” the angel gasped urgently as the strength of his ferocious orgasm hit him, his nails raking into the demon's flanks as hot, slick come pulsed between their bodies. Crowley felt spurred on by seeing his Angel undone. He slammed home, feeling his own second orgasm crash into him, knocking the breath from his body as he rode through the spasms until he was spent, His black, glossy wings bursting into this plane, flagging with the aftershocks. his lean body collapsing into the soft, welcoming cushion of that perfect, soft angel. Crowley nuzzled into his angels plush, soft chest    
  
“Was that.... was that okay, Angel...?” He panted out, shuddering still from the overwhelming intensity of it.    
  
“Crowley, that was......divine! I love you. You splendid, wonderful creature. “    
  
They lay together, basking in the hazy afterglow of their shared pleasure, all silly smiles, fond glances and gentle touches, and dozed in the safety of each other's arms.    
  
In time, Crowley woke to the light brush of fingers trailing the angles and hollows of his face. Opened his eyes into a gaze so soft and appreciative that his heart felt a tender and fragile thing. Fingers that traced him like an artist trying to capture something precious. Lips softly pressed against his. Oh this. Oh THIS. The perfection of waking in his Angels arms. Of feeling so safe and so loved and so …. so GOOD. He felt GOOD! He felt like a precious, loved thing, not cast out. Not lost. Not unwanted. He felt like the most precious creature that ever existed. They described the consuming of a being taken over with love for another as falling. But this was so unlike falling. This was rising. This was soaring. This was taking his broken pieces, and putting the parts back together with gold, and being more beautiful and precious than ever before. He didn’t FALL in love. He SOARED with it. He let the kiss deepen, feeling those soft hands trailing down once more, exploring the ridges of his spine, the hollows of his hips, his slowly, lazily filling cock, eager for more. Aziraphale’s body pressed his into the mattress below, such a firm, grounding, soft weight. With a commanding roll, the angel flipped Crowley above him, astride him, as eager , fine, elegant fingers gripping his hips, massaging and mastering them, and guiding him to rock back and forth on his own half hard shaft. It filled rapidly as Crowley rode it. Aziraphale reached under the demon, began working the tight little opening there until it submitted to those, strong, blunt, slick fingers. The demon's features, soft and wondering in overwhelming need were beautiful beyond imagining.    
grabbing his thick, sturdy cock, Aziraphale guided Crowley down onto himself. For just a moment he stretched out luxuriantly before digging his blunt nailed fingers deep in the fleshy, pert buttocks, helping him ride him hard.   
“I’ve got you, my love, I’ve got you...... you’re safe..... I won’t ever let you fall..... you are mine now.....mine, not theirs.....I have you..... you’re safe.....” he gasped out, guiding those hips to grind down hard into him, over and over and over. And oh, the thrusts he had set for them were perfect, rolling just right against each other. As the sensation grew, Aziraphale grabbed tighter to those small, perfect hips, raising them up with a delicious drag, and tugging them to slam down deep on the downstroke. It made Crowley's breath catch, made him fling his head back. Aziraphale let one hand trace slowly down the demon's beautiful midline. The shadows, ridges and hollows of him, so unlike his own soft body. Back to grasping his narrow pelvis and helping to raise it and slam it back down with each upward thrust. Crowley fell forwards over him, hands resting on his broad shoulders, using those long, folded legs to meet the rough pace.    
  
“Oh Angel.....” there was a soft chorus of gasps and sighs of exertion, in time with the pace of their hips slamming together. Of the angel's thick thick cock stretching and filling him over and over again. “oh fuck... oh fuck... harder, Angel.... harder.... HARDER!” he demanded. Aziraphale withdrew fully, flinging Crowley face down into the mattress before entering him roughly again with a shuddering gasp. The demon's fingers gripped around the pillow, his head turned to the side whimpering with the fierce, delicious heat and pounding of it. Eyes lightly closed. “Harder …... HAAAARRDERRRR!” Aziraphale’s fingers slid down the demon's arms, interlacing his fingers against the pillows, and he rode hard into those perfect round buttocks until the cliff edge raced to meet them. Crowleys moan was a low wail, his muscles clenching and unclenching as he let it pass through him, making a mess of the beautiful bedlinen. Aziraphale pulled out, and there was momentarily a wet, slapping sound as he milked himself over those beautiful buttocks and lower back. Their ragged, gasping breathing punctuated the silence. 

“I’m terribly sorry my dear, I think I should have asked first?” 

  
“Huh.....Angel?” Crowleys eyes were hazy and love drunk. “asked what?” Aziraphale held up a sticky hand, and gestured towards the streaks that painted the demons lower back and arse.    
  
“before I um.....ON you. That was terribly rude of me.” Crowley chuckled softly, face back in the pillow.

  
“Before you Jackson Pollocked me? Nahh, s’fine, Angel.” Aziraphale broke into peals of charming giggles at how he had phrased it, making Crowley look back again, smiling SO fondly. “can’t say I expected you to be so dirty, but I like it. Should have known you’d be an utter hedonist.” The Angel was casually stroking his long thighs and round buttocks, over and over.

“Well, at least let me clean you up.” The Angel lowered his lips to the space between Crowleys shoulderblades, slowly kissing down the ridges of his spine, loving how it undulated under his touch, rolling up to meet him. Crowleys breathing quickened again, as his angel gently lapped and stroked at the small of his back, once again, that beautiful sensual moan of satisfaction escaped the angels lips. When his back was clean, he set to work on the firm, round buttocks. He would never have dared admit how much he had daydreamed about licking, kissing and biting that beautifully shapely behind. How often he had admired it, in breeches, in those ridiculously tight trousers he favoured. He wouldn’t have dared admit how, that morning, before heading to meet with Crowley in the park, he had spent some time in front of one of Crowleys full length mirrors, looking over his shoulder at the reflection there. Of course, fully clothed. It wouldn’t have felt right to peek, but he had also removed the glasses and stared long into those eyes. After all, he HAD been faced with the possibility of never seeing each other again. Crowley keened when Aziraphale nipped playfully in between his reverential licks and kisses. “Is that good, my dear?” Crowleys response was muffled by the pillow, as he held up a thumb beside his half hidden face. Aziraphale nipped harder, sucking the firm, meaty flesh past his teeth and pressing his tongue there. When he was clean, Aziraphale lightly trailed his tongue where he pleased. Down those thighs, the ticklish hollow behind his knees, those beautiful feet, scarred and scaled and so purely Crowley he could hardly bear it. He trailed back up, until he had the demon tucked against his chest. Limp and obedient in his arms. Stroking his hair until he slept once more.    
  
  
When eventually, Aziraphale’s stomach growled, they decided it was about time for their lunch booking to be ready, and reluctantly dressed. Fastening the demons tie, Aziraphale gently ruffled his hair, tugging him close for another kiss. They felt surrounded in blissful, golden light. Arm in arm, they headed down to the dining rooms, following the gentle tinkling sound of the piano to the Palm Court, knowing that everything had changed. They really DID have a fresh slate. A new life. The first day of the rest of their lives.    


The life they both thought they could never have.    
Together.

**Author's Note:**

> to my very dear friend, within this fandom, and within rodent parentdom, and wanting to bite Crowley on his arse and collarbonesdom.  
> I hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing it.


End file.
